


Worth The Wait

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, HP: EWE, M/M, Post-War, Romance, flangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-07
Updated: 2007-12-07
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:43:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8464045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: "He couldn't remember how long he'd been out there exactly, but it felt like an eternity of pacing back and forth, waiting for his lover’s return and shivering as the temperatures continued to drop..."





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine.

A thick, ominous fog hung over the frost-covered moors in the middle of which the picturesque cottage stood. From a casual spectator's point of view, the scene might have held a kind of sinister beauty, but not so for Harry.  
  
He couldn't remember how long he'd been out there exactly, but it felt like an eternity of pacing back and forth, waiting for his lover’s return and shivering as the temperatures continued to drop.  
  
It was no secret that he wasn’t pleased with Draco’s chosen career, and that the very nature of his occupation continued to unsettle him.  
  
After the war, Draco had decided to start working for the Ministry and now, five years later, he was still there, pulling strings and using Lucius’ old connections to round up rogue Death Eaters, generally (much as it pained Harry to admit it) with astounding success.  
  
But that wasn’t all of it, or if anyone were to ask Harry, the worst of it by far.  
  
No, Draco insisted on carrying out a lot of the pursuing and subsequent arrests himself, which generally involved perilous quests in faraway places that often left Harry frantic with worry.  
  
"I have a large moral debt to pay,” Draco explained whenever Harry asked him why he continued taking enormous risks and putting himself in danger, time and time again. “My family owes it to the world, and with Father in prison and Mother not doing so well, I'm the only one left who can restore our good name and high standing, aren’t I?”  
  
Harry always disagreed vehemently and stressed that the financial aid the Malfoys were donating to assorted charities was compensation enough, but his arguments were to no avail.  
  
Draco was as pigheaded as he was proud, and Harry didn’t like fighting with him; they’d done their fair share of that back in their teens, more than enough for Harry to last him a lifetime.  
  
Now, however, waiting out there in the freezing cold and fearing for his partner’s life, Harry deeply regretted not having been more vocal about the matter.  
  
Perhaps that still wouldn’t have solved anything or changed Draco’s decision, but it might have eliminated some of the overwhelming guilt Harry was presently feeling.  
  
What if Draco never made it back alive? Harry would never forgive himself.  
  
Large snowflakes drifted downwards, and Harry let out a resigned sigh.  
  
He couldn’t stay out there forever. He was already chilled to the bone and really didn’t fancy getting frostbite.  
  
He was just about to head back indoors when he heard the distinctive sound of creaking footsteps on frozen leaves.  
  
He whipped around to face the approaching figure.  
  
Grey eyes shone in the dim porch light and familiar blond hair peeked out from under a hooded cloak.  
  
Harry quickly closed the distance between them and all but threw himself at his partner.  
  
"Draco," he choked out. “Thank God.”  
  
"Yes, I missed you too, you prat,” Draco began, smiling, but when he felt Harry's ice-cold cheek pressed against his face, he instantly took a step back. "How long have you been waiting out here?" he asked, worried.  
  
"Er, well—"  
  
"Not since eight o'clock, I hope? That was three hours ago."  
  
"Er—" Harry gave a grin that was both apologetic and slightly wary. “I-I thought you'd— I thought something had happened to you. I—"  
  
Draco sighed, shook his head, and pulled Harry back into his arms. "There was a bad snowstorm in Vienna. I was told it wasn’t safe to Portkey out, and all the secure communication links were down. I considered Apparating here, but given the distance... Shacklebolt said he didn't want me to Splinch myself trying."  
  
Harry smiled. "You're home now. That’s the main thing."  
  
"Indeed, I am. And I have some good new,s too. Let's go inside, shall we? Merlin, it's bloody freezing out here."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Both men entered the house and in the hallway removed their cloaks and gloves.  
  
Shivering from head to toe, Harry went straight to the living room and sat down in a settee in front of the fireplace, pulling his knees up to his chin.  
  
Draco poured the other man a drink. Shaking his head, he could barely conceal his irritation at the fact that once again Harry had taken his ‘saving people thing’ just that elusive notch too far.  
  
“Here. Drink this, Potter.”  
  
Harry blinked. “Firewhiskey? On an empty stomach?”  
  
“Yes,” Draco replied matter-of-factly. “You urgently need to warm up, and tempting though it is to drag you upstairs and put you in a hot bath, we'd only end up distracted and there’s something important I need to tell you first."  
  
Harry swallowed the drink in one gulp and flinched, tears springing to his eyes as the stinging liquid went down his throat. 'Something important' tended to sound ominous, regardless of its source, but then Draco did say this was good news, right?  
  
"Don't look at me like that, Potter,” Draco remarked with a smile, sensing his companion’s dread. “It's nothing awful or unpleasant, I promise.”  
  
He sat down next to Harry and continued, "I imagine you remember Archibald Nott, don't you?"  
  
"Isn’t he the uncle of that Nott we went to school with; Theodore, wasn’t it?”  
  
Draco nodded. "Theodore Nott’s deranged, fanatical, sadistic bastard of an uncle, yes, that’s the one."  
  
Harry swallowed hard as he recalled harrowing testimonies of Muggles, Wizards and Witches alike, all of whom had felt the extent of the man’s insanity in the worst possible of ways. It wasn’t exactly a subject he wanted to think about in too much detail.  "What about him?" he asked carefully.  
  
"We finally caught him this morning, which means—"  
  
Draco paused meaningfully, and Harry frowned. Truthfully, he didn’t have a clue what this might mean.  
  
All of Draco’s cases were top secret, and Harry was never allowed to know any of the specifics until after the arrests were made. It was an arrangement he’d never been happy with, although from a safety point of view, he had to acknowledge it made sense.  
  
"It means," Draco continued, merriment and satisfaction written all over his face, "that this particular case is closed now, and...“  
  
"And?" Harry ventured, unease and trepidation gripping at his heart as he waited to hear when Draco would be packing his bags and leaving again. He wondered what the perilous details of the next quest might be, details he wasn’t even permitted to enquire about.  
  
"And once the office re-opens after Christmas,” Draco said, “I'll be switching from field work to a regular office job."  
  
Harry blinked, convinced that he'd misunderstood. "What?" he managed in a breathy voice.  
  
"It'll be in the Leeds branch, which is just a ‘pop’ away from here, as I'm sure you know."  
  
Too dumbfounded to speak, Harry merely nodded.  
  
"Well?" Draco asked after a few moments of weird silence. "Aren't you going to say anything? Congratulate me on my promotion, at least? As it happens, the switch also involves a higher rank and more money; not that we really need the latter, but there you are."  
  
"Er— Why?"  
  
This time around, it was Draco's turn to be confused. "Why what?"  
  
"Why did you accept a desk job out of the blue? Nothing happened, did it?" He studied Draco's face carefully and then proceeded to look him up and down. "You didn't get hurt, sustain some kind of magical injury, did you?"  
  
"No," Draco was quick to reassure him. "Nothing like that. Do you remember how I kept saying I felt I had a debt to repay, I needed to make up for my family’s lack of... well..." He gave a small smile. "Pretty much _everything_ during the war?"  
  
Harry nodded, suppressing a sneer. How could he ever forget?  
  
“Well, I believe bringing a small squadron of the worst bastards of the lot to justice qualifies as adequate compensation, don't you?" he said flatly, and then added, "Besides, I didn't want you to go and do something daft. I know you, Potter."  
  
"Something daft?" Harry parroted, seemingly confused though a guilty expression flickered across his face, just long enough to give him away.  
  
"Yes," Draco said. "Like worrying yourself sick about me, or worse, putting in an application of your own, as you’ve secretly been planning to do all along.”  
  
"Oh." Harry couldn't stop the furious blush from crawling up his cheeks.  
  
"You were going to try and get accepted into the Auror training programme again, weren't you?" Draco puts to him.  
  
"Well, I-er— See, the thing is—"  
  
In the blink of an eye, Draco's expression turned frantic. "Yes?"  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
“Potter!” Draco’s tone was fast becoming urgent. “Out with it! What did you do?”  
  
"Er, I filled out the application form, and composed the letter to go with it, but, er—“  
  
“Did you actually send it off yet?"  
  
Harry quickly shook his head. "No. It’s still on the table."  
  
"Well, thank the Gods."  
  
Harry smiled wanly. "You have to understand, Draco, it's what I've always done, gone after... _them_ ," he muttered quietly in his defence. "So I thought..."  
  
"Yes," Draco replied. "Exactly. It's what you've always done; which is all the more reason for you to quit while you're still alive and have all your limbs attached."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's such a Slytherin thing do say."  
  
"And that..." Draco gestured towards the table where the letter lay, and countered, "Is such a Gryffindor stunt to pull."  
  
For a few moments, they looked at each other with matching glares until they both burst out laughing at the same time and the tension that had begun to build between them melted away in a heartbeat.  
  
"So," Draco asked when their chuckling had subsided. "If you’ve sufficiently warmed up, how about having some Christmas dinner?"  
  
"There's stuffed turkey and baked potatoes. Cranberry sauce, sprouts, cabbage, parsnips and chestnuts too. Everything should still be warm."  
  
Draco smiled. "That sounds absolutely lovely.” He began to walk towards the spacious kitchen, but Harry grabbed his hand and drew him back.  
  
"So," he said, as though the fact was only now dawning on him, "does that mean you won’t be leaving again?"  
  
"Well," came the response, "I'll be going off to work in the morning, obviously, but I'll be home every night, so I'm afraid you'll have to get accustomed to putting up with me on a more regular basis."  
  
Harry all but beamed. He kissed Draco soundly before he said, "Dinner then?"  
  
"Definitely. And you'd better not have overcooked the sprouts this year, Potter."


End file.
